When the lights go out
by Jason Layton
Summary: 221B drabble. Set in my Lucy/John/sherlock story arc. That doesn't matter though. Warning for OC character death.
1. Chapter 1

**Some of you will know where this has come from, I needed to write it. He hasn't died thank the Gods, but it was so close, and we are not out of the woods yet. So this is dedicated to the gorgeous SJ, who deserves all the love and happiness in the world. **

**Anyway, soppiness over, this is a 221B fic 221 words last word beginning with B. Oh and this is the first time I've written one of these.  
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**This is for my Lucy/ Sherlock/ John story arc, but that doesn't really matter.**

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><p>He followed the screaming ambulance through the narrow tree lined lanes, past the chocolate box cottages and under dead over hanging trees. Once he'd been used to driving this fast, but years of taxi's and tubes had dulled the sharp senses he once had, the unfamiliar car twitching on the edge of the tyres grip. He was keeping up with the ambulance but only just.<p>

The woman in the passenger seat alternates between dry racking sobs, and gripping the arm rest in fear as the car slides. Her eyes are red rimmed and wide as if she can't believe what is happening, which is fine, because he can't either. The man in the ambulance has always been so strong, and this is so sudden, the pumping adrenaline is the only thing keeping him from sobbing as well.

He shouldn't be here, he should be back in Baker Street with John, not following his Father-in-Laws ambulance through the Sussex countryside. He couldn't leave her now, he wouldn't leave her until this was over, either way. His heart is banging, thumping blood through his body as his shocked eyes focus on the flashing blue lights in front, oblivious to all else

Suddenly the lights go out, he feels his heart pause and a wave of nausea hits, he looks towards her and then BREAKS.

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><p><strong>So what do you think?<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**This was never meant to be more than a 1 shot, but I had a bit more to say. This is set about 2 years after Holmes for Xmas, and 2 years before Sherlock fakes his death if you happen to be following these things.**

Sitting in the hospital family room, with his sobbing wife, he felt numb. He knew Sir Herbert had been ill, he knew it was getting worse, but he had somehow expected him to survive, to pull through. Genius though he was, his brain had rebelled at his father-in-laws death. He couldn't really fathom what had happened and so he was just sitting silently and still on the hard plastic chair.

He had managed to text John, and told him to explain to their children that their Grandfather had died. They had however been told to wait till the Doctor came to talk to them, so here they sat together in silence, he numb, and she heartbroken. He looked across to her, her body still rounded from her own elongated stay in hospital, hands bunched over the scars he knew now decorated her once flat stomach.

He would never be the world's most caring husband, but he felt for her now. Once so strong and so aloof, such tragedy in such a short time had taken its toll on her. The racking sobs would never have been part of her a few short months ago. Now however she seemed like a different person, John had told him to give her time, let her grieve. Sherlock just wanted her at home where she BELONGED.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sadly I still don't own well anything, but my mood is slightly lighter tis morning, so the fic is...ish!**

It had been John who had got Lucy's initial panicked phone-call, her father was now really sick and the Doctor had been called. She had begged them to come down, bring the boys to say goodbye, but he'd thought it was a bad idea. They had already gone to bed, it was a long journey and he was sure that tomorrow would be fine.

Sherlock had gone immediately however, something in her voice on the line and told him she needed a friend, and he'd gone without question or second glance. John regretted his choice now, the text message from Sherlock had been short and brisk informing him of Sir Herbert's demise, and asking him to inform the children.

The fact that she would probably be coming home now ran through his head suddenly. Even though she was now the legal owner of Blengindale, she would come back to Baker Street. For the first time in months they would be back together, properly, and his stomach balled into a knot. She wasn't the only one grieving, but she'd left them to grieve alone. He didn't blame her of course, none of this was her fault, she was still ill, still recovering from her ordeal and needed more gentle handling that they could give her. He just wished she hadn't left them BEHIND.


	4. Chapter 4

**Diva told me to go to bed, but hey I had to update this because I'm small and fuzzy.**

The doctor had given Lucy a sedative, and warned Sherlock not to leave her alone. At first he'd roamed through the house, which he supposed was technically now half his. He'd entered Sir Herbert's study, and sat behind the desk for a while, remembering all the times they'd had their 'chat'. He still expected to see Sir Herbert walk through the door, and there was a distinct creeping sensation at the back of his neck.

After sitting there, assessing the desk for a while, he decided nothing would be solved sitting there, and continued his walk. He'd walked to the main part of the house which contained the family bedrooms, past Simon and Juniors bedroom, past the room John sometimes used, to his and Lucy's. Carefully opening the door, he found her curled fully clothed on the duvet. Fast asleep she still sobbed, her breath hitched everytime her chest rose and fell. He walked to her, and sat down on the bed.

Running his hands through her hair, she made a mewling nose, and he was shocked when her hand shot up and clutched him. He followed the pressure and lay beside her, wrapping his arms around her, he tried to be comforting. Trying to remember the times John had provided this type of comfort to them both at Baker Street, BEFORE.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucy is walking through Regents Park, it's a bright sunny summer afternoon, the pram she is pushing is heavier than she thought it would be, so Junior and Simon are helping her push. They're hands join her on the ornately carved handle, and she stares at the 6 hands, all the same size. She wonders if Jennifer's hands are the same size, so she peers into the pram to see.

The pram is empty except for the blood red blankets, her head snaps up, and she see's walking along the path towards them her mother Lady Eirawin, her Father Sir Herbert, laughing and smiling while passing the tiny baby Jennifer between them, a shadow passes over her and she's cold, looking around she notices that Simon and Junior have gone, the pram is missing as well, and she looks down and notices the blood soaking her summer dress, her stomach covered in a spider web of blood.

She slumps against the cold metal wall behind her, blood now pooling on the concrete floor, she calls out to John who is standing in front of her, the knife in his hand soaked in her blood, but he won't turn round, and as he rushes out of the bunker, she cries feeling Sherlock's arms around her. She wakes in fear reaching for her BABY.


	6. Chapter 6

At 12 Simon thinks he's a little too old to be sharing a bedroom with his baby brother, after all it isn't like they haven't got the room at Baker Street. He understands why Mummy and Daddy decided he shouldn't go to Boarding school, as had been the original plan, and he's more than happy to be at Westminster instead of Winchester. If anything he realises he probably prefers to live with Daddy, and Uncle John and Junior and Mrs Hudson to boarding school.

However sharing a room with a five year old is not ideal, and he has his mind set on Mummy's old room at the top of the house. When she was in hospital and Daddy thought she was going to die, he'd asked if could have her room, but Uncle John had told him it wasn't the right time to ask. Later when the adults had been discussing him staying at Baker Street rather than going to Winchester, he'd asked again, but that was really not the right time.

Now when Uncle John had come and told them that Granddaddy had died, and that Mummy was probably coming back to live with them, Simon could feel his chances of having his own room receding. Afterall he knew in terrifying technicolour what happened if his parents shared a BED.


	7. Chapter 7

Lucille Steadman is many things, she is beautiful intelligent aloof and fiercely protective of her boys. She is also spoilt, flighty and without conscience. However sometimes, she is just a little girl lost, and at those times she doesn't want to be with anyone. She has an escape, throwing a permanently packed bag into her Porsche, she slips quietly out of the Blengindale drive, and out onto the Eastbourne road. By 7am she is parked at the private sailing club, slipping into her wet suit, unashamedly in the cold morning air. Her body, her mind, her whole being meant nothing, as she carefully rigged her Laser Pico, having pulled its trailer down to the launch. Pushing into the dark water, and the early dawn, she and the dinghy became one. The danger of the dark morning, and the unpredictable waters, stopped her brain working completely. She was no longer a heart broken daughter, or mother to a lost child, but the little girl who learnt to sail at 2, whose mother had called her a porpoise and her water baby. She was daring and free, a water spirit in full flight, rebelling at the wind, her hair streaming, hammering the hurt away. She never wants to come back, she wants to carry on forever sailing into eternity just girl and BOAT.


	8. Chapter 8

Mycroft had finally gone to sleep at 3am, bedding down on the sofa in his office, rather than bothering with a government hotel room or apartment. The talks which had continued into the early morning had not gone well, and he was both physically and mentally exhausted. So when his peace was disturbed by a gentle but persistent rapping on his office door, he swore.

Signalling that he was awake he stretched his long legs out in front of him, sitting up as one of his personal security guards walked through the door, apologising for the disturbance in his sleep. The guard went on to explain that their surveillance on Ms Steadman had reported her travelling out to sea on a small dinghy and requested further advice. Mycroft put his head in his hands; it was too early in the morning to deal with suicide attempts.

He watched the surveillance footage in silence, watching with one eye the weather reports that trailed along the laptop screen beside him. As the Laser bobbed out of easy site, and was followed by a sensitive but grainy night vision image of the shrinking boat, a third screen was placed within his view, his brother getting into a car, and heading off in the direction of the coast.

Mycroft sighed, big brother taking over…Bring her BACK.


	9. Chapter 9

"Mr Holmes?" The tall man stepped out from behind a trailer, as the detective stepped out of the car.

"Obviously, what do you want?" Sherlock asked, stepping away from the man and towards the sea.

"Mr Holmes you need to stay with me" The tall man warned

"I really don't" Sherlock walked further, then turned back "Where is my wife?"

The man gestured out to the dark black sea spread out in front of them, "So you see Mr Holmes, you really do need to stay here with me, it's all for the best."

Sherlock scanned the man, "If she doesn't want you to find her, you won't" he put his hands in his pocket and walked towards the man, "you've sent people after her?"

"Of course Mr Holmes"

"And my brother told you to detain me?"

"Yes Mr Holmes"

For nearly an hour they stood, on the beach as the sun came up. Till eventually a small RIB launch came into view, dragging a tiny sailing dinghy behind it. Sherlock's eyes picked up on the blonde women, in a silver blanket in the back of the boat. Her eyes met his accusingly as the neared the shore.

As they came ashore, she broke free of the large man holding her, marched up the beach directly towards him and punch him! BASTARD!


End file.
